


No Doubts

by Castiron



Category: Laura Ingalls Wilder - Little House series
Genre: Gen, Yuletide, challenge:Yuletide 2008, recipient:Clio
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-04
Updated: 2009-12-04
Packaged: 2017-10-04 03:46:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Castiron/pseuds/Castiron
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Caroline had not expected so many memories to come up during the preparations for Laura's wedding.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Doubts

Preparing for a daughter's marriage, Caroline thinks as they ride into town, should be a joyful thing, its only shadow that Laura will be moving away for life. Caroline had not realized how disquieting it would be, how many memories would be dislodged every time Almanzo arrived to take Laura for a ride, every time Laura's face lit up at a knock on the door.

Not that her memories of courtship trouble her -- far from it. She still treasures those weeks when she wondered if Charles might be paying particular attention to her; she can still remember the color of the sky and the temperature of the wind the moment he proposed. She has known the joy of a brief kiss and squeeze of the hand before parting for the night, and though she hides her smile, it is a delight to relive those moments through Laura's own joy.

But Caroline knows too that the joy of courtship is fleeting, and that the enduring love of a marriage is built upon sorrow as well as joy.

The wagon pulls to a stop in front of Clancy's dry goods store, and she and Laura get out. Charles says, "I'll meet you at the hardware store when you're through; I need to buy some nails while we're here."

"We shouldn't be more than an hour," Caroline replies, and he smiles.

When Caroline danced with Charles as a young woman, sorrow seemed a thing unimaginable -- as indeed it was, when she finally met it. As she helps Laura pick out cloth for underwear and nightgowns, sheets and pillowcases, she remembers doing the same with her own mother, happy in her ignorance. Had she known that the sheets would be stained with blood from a miscarriage, that one of the gowns would be ruined after a week of illness and another ripped to stanch the blood when Mary cut herself, she would not have enjoyed buying them nearly as much.

Had she known that marriage to Charles would bring lonely prairie and isolation, abandoned homes and dirt floors, illness and debt, near-starvation and a blinded child, she does not think she would have had the courage to say "I do".

Perhaps, though, it is best this way, no knowledge of the burdens ahead to mar your pleasure in the choice. Like choosing fabric without thinking of the sewing to follow -- and oh, how she hates sewing! Caroline waits as Laura examines the different patterned lawns, and she wonders what stories the pink lawn Laura selects will be able to tell when it is finally laid aside in the ragbag. Caroline prays that most of them will be happy ones, and knows that many will not be.

She remembers the first time she and Charles had a disagreement -- she cannot even remember now what it was about, only that she finally bit her lips to silence herself for a moment, reminded herself that she had vowed to obey him, and said, "If that is what you wish to do, then of course we will do it." She had then gone out into the garden and pulled weeds until five hills of squash were pristine; the bird chirps had been like scolding words, and the breezes like the icy breath of the angel of death.

That evening, Charles had pulled her into his arms and said quietly, "Does it mean so much to you?" And Caroline had compared it with that long isolated afternoon in the garden, compared that with what now was clearly a small thing, and said, "No, it does not." And she had leaned against him, drawing warmth back into her, and had hoped that nothing so terrible would ever happen again.

Of course, many things far more terrible have happened since, and many things smaller but almost harder to bear. There have been many times when she has had to breathe deeply before saying, "Yes, Charles, if you think it best." But none of them, it seems, have been as hard as that first disagreement. She hopes that this will be so for Laura as well.

And truly, Caroline knows, there have been many joys. As she watches Laura try on hats in Miss Bell's shop, Caroline remembers Charles's smile when she first put on a dress made with cloth he had bought for her. She remembers nights in many different houses, sitting by the fire with him for a few minutes after the girls were asleep. She remembers all the times when he has had to be away seeking work, and how the happiness of finally seeing him again was almost worth the long separation. The shelf on which she keeps the white china shepherdess has been a continual reminder of his affection; every meal she places on the table a reminder of how he provides for her -- even during that horrible winter, he found them food when there seemed to be nothing between them and starvation. She has never had any doubt that he loves her.

"Ma?" Laura says as they leave Miss Bell's. "I still have five dollars left. Won't you take it and buy something for yourself while we're here?"

This is another joy, that they have four living daughters, daughters who have grown up into fine young women. Caroline has always been fascinated to see something of Charles in each of the girls --and of herself as well, but her own part has always seemed obvious from the moment she first felt each move within her womb. It is a different delight to see Charles in them, and Laura in particular is truly her father's daughter.

Caroline is almost sorry to turn down Laura's generosity, and of course there are things she would love to have, but Laura will need money in her new life, if not now then later, and Caroline will not take that money for something that she can live without.

Marriage has taught her that as well. She can live without a wood floor, without siding on the walls. She can live without meat, without Christmas gifts for the girls, without a roof or a stove, without her parents and old friends.

She can even live without Charles when she has to. She hates it when she has to.

The wagon is waiting for them in front of Fuller's Hardware, holding a large object covered with a horse blanket. A gift for Laura, Caroline assumes when Charles only smiles and tells them to wait. This is another of the things she loves about him, that he knows what would please the girls, and she wonders what surprise he has come up with this time.

When they arrive at home, and Charles pulls back the blanket to reveal a sewing machine for herself -- why, it must have cost twenty dollars! -- Caroline can hardly keep her prudence and her countenance for joy. She touches the sturdy metal, and underneath Charles's words, she can clearly hear _I know you've wanted one of these. I want your happiness. I love you._

And for now, Caroline has no fears for Laura, reminded that there will be unexpected joys for her as well.

END 

**Author's Note:**

> For the curious: Page 240-241, These Happy Golden Years.


End file.
